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She is a walrus

May 9, 2009

To look at her is to be baffled by the determination it must take to be a junkie for that long and to have literally scarred your entire body with needle jabs, abscesses and cellulitis so vast that she has golf ball sized craters on her legs and stomach which resemble the tusk marks a wizened walrus gets after fighting with other beasts of their kind.

Her skin is grayish brown in most spots on her legs and arms and it ripples with the scars and is so thick and tough it doesn’t feel like skin at all.

Using a doppler to find a vein to be an IV in yields no success and she is filled with enough Ativan to sleep mostly through the whole thing except to mutter, “I can find one, hey, wait, let me do it.” The poor doctor mutters , “I would love to.”. He finds one in her foot and its good and as he advances the catheter tip it crumples, literally, because the vein is so damaged and he has to remove it.

She is the walrus, I am the eggman, koo-koo-ka-choo.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. May 28, 2009 12:47 pm

    God, this hurts to read. I know this girl, I’ve had breakfast with her (or at least it was another like her), it sadeness me to think she is still doing what she does. Thank you for this, thank you for the reminder, thank you for giving me the oppertunity to pray for her.

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